Read Soon Online

Authors: Jerry B. Jenkins

Soon (21 page)

“Straight! I always thought you were overqualified to be an inpatient baby-sitter.”

“Oh no, Paul. My volunteer work is important too. That’s why you’re here, don’t forget.”

We have our appointed tasks—which are critical—that we must
diligently perform. . . .

Abraham said, “So you see, Paul, our work is vital. We are fighting to win hearts to Christ in what is surely the most repressive time in human history—when world governments have not only banned religion but also are technologically capable of enforcing that ban by spying on every citizen. We maintain a library, train teachers, and offer other support services to believers today, but we must also lay the groundwork, through our masscommunications program, for a future we will never see that could begin at any moment. We code-named the new effort
Soon
.

“Let’s pray.” They all clasped hands, Paul taking Isaac’s crippled one. “God, our Father, we bring to You Your son, Paul, who is embarking on a journey so dangerous that his life is in Your hands. We pray Your guidance and protection, Your wisdom and strength for him as he serves You. In the name of Christ, amen.”

Abraham raised his head. “We wanted you brought here, Paul, so you would feel that you are truly one of us, a soldier in the growing army of God. Since He is with us, none of us need ever feel alone.”

PAUL WAS BLINDFOLDED
and restrained again once they were a short way from the meeting site. His mind spun like a turbine, thinking of a city in a salt mine, modern catacombs, a refuge from persecution, and a mother ship for Christian groups. The Rapture, when God would call believers to heaven. Operation Soon, a bold initiative to keep the Word of God in circulation through the end of time. Isaac, who may have been the man Paul tried to murder in San Francisco. And those lapel pins . . .

When they were settled on the bench in the truck, Straight freed him.

“When you gave me the ailanthus leaves, it fit my theory that different Christian groups use different identification symbols.”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about those?”

Straight hesitated and spoke slowly, seeming to choose his words carefully. “Well, ah, before you committed to joining us, it didn’t make sense to give you a lot of background on Christian identification symbols.”

“Fair enough. But you can tell me now. Those crowns you and the people in the salt mine wear are your identification symbols, right? And they come from the third chapter of Revelation, when God tells the church of Philadelphia: ‘Hold on to what you have, so that no one will take away your crown.’ ”

Straight raised a brow. “Well, yes . . .”

“So my theory was right. I figured the resistance was using imagery from Revelation, especially the beginning, the part about the churches. For example, they might have attacked Sardis Oil in Gulfland because one of the churches of Revelation was in Sardis. The believers connected to that operation picked a medallion depicting a book and light-colored clothes as their symbols. I never worked it out enough to report it to my boss. But it’s true, isn’t it?”

Straight shook his head. “It’s scary how close you came, Paul. But remember, the events in Gulfland and other places were miracles. Christians never targeted or attacked anything. So no, your theory wasn’t quite right.”

“What did I miss?”

“Think about it. How many churches—or lampstands or stars—come up in that section?”

“Seven?”

“And what seven divisions could Christians be grouped under?”

“Well . . . we are the United Seven States of America.”

“Right. And the affiliations aren’t random. You know history is my game, Paul. Check the history of those seven churches of Revelation and you’ll find that each bears a distinct correspondence to one of our seven states.”

Paul decided that was the most amazing thing he’d heard that night—even considering he had been abducted and dragged down into a mine.

“Take Ephesus,” Straight said. “It was a port city called the ‘market of Asia’ because it was the most important financial center on the Mediterranean. Besides banking, a major industry was making silver shrines to the goddess Artemis. The Bible tells us that, in addition to believing in false gods associated with silver, so many Ephesians believed in magic that when their divination books were burned, it was as if fifty thousand pieces of silver had gone up in smoke.

“Ephesus remind you of someplace?”

Paul stared, dumbfounded.

“Thought so,” Straight said. “And—just as an aside—remember, in Acts Paul is called upon to revive a man who fell from a thirdstory window in Troas.” Paul sat back, speechless. “See, Paul, once you start looking for signs that the end is upon us, they’re everywhere.”

Paul dozed, exhausted. The next sound he heard was the truck’s back door opening. They were in a parking garage.

“There’s a cab outside,” Straight told him. “It’ll take you back to the hotel. I’ll be along later. See you at the tournament in the morning.”

“I almost forgot we came here to play chess.”

Paul found his way to the street, deserted in the wee hours except for the taxi. The driver knew where he was going and had already been paid. The hotel lobby was empty except for two men reading newspapers. Two men, just sitting in the lobby in the middle of the night? The odds were astronomical. Paul busied himself looking at brochures of local attractions. Neither man turned a page. Had Paul been found out? He moved to the counter and asked for messages. None.

Paul took the elevator to his floor, but rather than go to his room he slipped into a stairwell from which he had a view of his door. The men never showed. He dead-bolted, chained, and propped a chair against his door, finally able to relax. They couldn’t have been NPO. Too obvious.

Paul napped a few hours, showered, then headed down to meet Straight. He saw no more of the two men.
Amateurs.

Paul couldn’t imagine concentrating enough on chess to have any kind of success Saturday morning. In the hotel ballroom he found his name on a plasma screen, one of fourteen players in the Novice division. Straight was playing a couple of levels higher. Players in the various levels met with tournament organizers for instructions, and Paul eyed the competition. Many players looked antisocial, even unwashed. Some carried dogeared paperbacks of chess strategy.

Paul was intimidated and played too quickly, losing two of his first four games and finding himself in the middle of the pack. That was actually better than he had expected, but he was convinced that both of his losses could have gone the other way had he been thinking clearly. He found Straight’s stats and saw that he was faring the same in his bracket. Paul was grateful for the competition Straight had given him over the last several months. He hadn’t faced anyone yet who could have held his own against Straight.

After a snack, Paul settled down and became the talk of the tournament when he won nine of his next ten, including seven in a row, and won his division. The cash prize was minuscule and wouldn’t pay for dinner, and the trophy was but a toy, but Paul found the experience invigorating. He was surprised at his stamina—that his mind had stayed sharp, that he could actually relax and concentrate.

It seemed Straight, who finished fourth in the tougher division, was even happier about the win than Paul was. “I’m really proud of you, man!”

Brie and Connor seemed fascinated by Paul’s small, cheap trophy, but Jae quickly excused them. “You can talk to Dad later,” she said. “Run along upstairs and play.”

“What’s going on, Jae?” Paul said when they were gone.

“Oh, Paul! Where were you last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where were you until you came back to the hotel alone just before dawn?”

“You had me followed?”

“And I called your room. Till well past midnight. And I had people pounding on your door till all hours.”

“I don’t believe this.”

“Were you with another woman?”

“What?”

“Just admit it, Paul. Don’t you think I know by now? I read her letter.”

“Her letter?”

“Paul, you met her in Washington. And now Toledo too—how can you flatout lie to me?”

“Angela Barger? You went through my things? I can’t tell you how offended I am, Jae—”

“Oh, you are? Well, here’s how offended
I
am. School’s out next week, and I’m taking the kids to Washington for the summer. That’ll give us both time to think.”

“If you’d stop yelling and listen for a minute—”

“Listen to what?”

“Jae, that is totally unjust—”

“Truth hurts, Paul?”

“We can work this out.”

“We’re going, Paul. It’s set. The kids are excited.”

Jae asked Paul to call only on Saturdays and only to talk to the kids. “When I want to talk to you,” she said, “I’ll be in touch.”

And she was gone.

Alone in the house, Paul hated himself for letting the argument get out of hand. He was ashamed at how things had deteriorated. So his new life didn’t cure everything.

By midweek he had found a distraction, a memo in the office about a case in Las Vegas. Sixteen people had been discovered dead, all of drug overdoses, before an altar under a cross. The deaths had been traced to a self-proclaimed prophet who called himself the reincarnation of Jonah. Friends of the victims claimed “Jonah” spun a story about having been swallowed by a whale off the coast of San Diego a few years before, then belched up onto shore three days later, suffering superficial burns from the creature’s stomach acid.

While inside the whale, Jonah claimed God had told him to build a congregation that would have direct access to heaven through the miracle of hallucinogenic drugs. The prophet, according to friends of the victims, also espoused free love, saying God told him this was His intention from the time of creation.

Several hundred people in and around Las Vegas were reportedly linked to the Jonah cult.

“A seriously dangerous nutcase,” Paul told Straight over dinner. “Imagine if I could bring him down and round up the others. I could save some lives and also get rid of a cult.”

“You’re going to Sin City?” Straight said.

“Early next week. Boss thinks this looks solid.”

Straight sat back and studied Paul. “Better get yourself some blinders, boy. You’re pretty young in the faith to be going there, especially with your family gone. It’s all gambling and sex.”

“I can handle it.”

“Famous last words. Sounds like you’ve decided.”

“I have.”

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